


A Comma After Dearest

by niennaerso



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, domestic banter, phil lester is a writer, references to Hamilton, they have a little fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennaerso/pseuds/niennaerso
Summary: Phil writes as a hobby. Dan has a favorite writer, and it happens to be Phil, but he doesn't know, yet.





	A Comma After Dearest

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Take a Break from Hamilton.
> 
> This was supposed to be published before interactive introverts started but I hadn't finished writing, yeah I know I'm a mess.
> 
> There's a lot of references which include Hamilton, Marvel and Sherlock.

“Phil, you gotta read this!” His best friend approached him and handed him his phone. Phil nearly fainted at the sight of his own Storyteller account. “This is hands down the best story they’ve written.”

Phil paused his Hamilton playlist on spotify before answering.

“Who’s that?” Phil asked faking naivety.

“This is my favorite writer. They just have the greatest way with words and the most creative mind on the site” Dan said and Phil looked at him with fake confusion. “Oh, this is the app version of the website where you can write and read stories, I’ve told you about it, right?” Phil nods, he wouldn't be writing there if it wasn't for his pushy best friend, “you’ll love it, you should download it.” Dan explained.

Phil just said he might do it, but only when his phone had ‘enough storage’. He was not gonna say he already had it downloaded, and that said writer was himself. Now he had to be more careful with where he wrote if he wanted Dan to stay oblivious to his secret identity. That made it sound like if he was a superhero, and well, judging by his account name, it would made sense. Who in his right mind mixes a stupid common name with Thor’s to create their username? No one, and that explained why Phil did. He was so different from everyone, as a person and as a writer, and that’s why Dan was so drawn to him as his best friend and as his favorite author in the site, even if he didn’t know they were actually the same person.

Over the next days, he found himself practically all day in front of his laptop, with almost ten google docs open, and writing the new chapter for the story Dan said he was loving. That boy was surely the greatest motivation he could ever hope for, and now that he knew he was his most loyal reader, he might as well put on a bit more effort in his work. Besides, there were only a couple of chapters left to it.

***

The next month had Phil over stressed with how cautious he had to be if he wanted to keep his account in secret. Dan’s excitement never seemed to stop, and in many occasions, it pushed Phil to the edge, like when he’s writing in his room and Dan bursts through the door making him Hulk-smash the F4 button in panic. Like that one time he was writing a scene where Hamilton and Laurens get into some heated non-explicit action and Dan sat right in front of him and he had to switch to another google doc in record time.

Now he has learned to write only while Dan is either filming, making a liveshow, sleeping, or editing a video. The inspiration usually had to wait for those moments, but sometimes it came uninvited, or because Dan was being unexpectedly cute and Phil suddenly felt compelled to write.

He’s laying on the sofa, writing in his phone because the ideas couldn’t wait for him to go and get his laptop from his room.

“Ph _iiiiiiiiiiiiiil_.” Dan jumped into the living room from the kitchen door, scaring Phil so much that he dropped his phone on his face.

“Yeah?” He asked while massaging his hurting cheek and sitting like a normal person.

“Please read the story I told you about?” His face was the most adorable thing Phil had ever seen. If the story weren’t his own work he’d said yes.

“I told you I would when I get enough storage in my phone.” He lied.

“Oh come on, just delete some other app.” Dan complained while collapsing on the sofa next to him. So close, that he was almost cuddling himself against his side. That wasn’t new between them, they were very touchy friends, the platonic nature of the relationship was no secret, and cuddling was actually a frequent thing in their flat.

“Fine, but not right now, I'll think about it.”

“Thank. You. I really need to talk about their Lams fanfics with someone.” Dan laughed.

“You've been talking to me about them for weeks anyways. Perhaps it was a bad idea going to see Hamilton live. It was like two months ago, get over it.” But Phil himself was aware of the fact that it was impossible, and he had seen the proof firsthand.

“Says who has the OBC Recording on repeat _all day_.” Fair enough.

“But at least I don’t read fanfiction about it. That’s on another level.” Phil teased.

“It would be worse if I was the one writing it.” Dan added, and Phil laughed internally. If only Dan knew…

“Well, they wouldn’t write if they knew there was no people willing to read.” 

“Actually, I think they’d write anyways. They have a lot of fanfics from many fandoms. They have also posted originals, and i think those are amongst their best stories ever.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, you won’t shut up about it.”

“What can I say, mate? They practically enchant me with their words. I might even have a fucking crush on them.” A hypothetical light bulb turned on above his head, and a new idea had appeared in his mind. Could it be that if Dan found out he was the writer he would reciprocate his feelings? Maybe his friend was only exaggerating his excitement and said that stuff for emphasis. And to be fair, Dan was. He did have a crush, but not on the writer.

“What would you do if you met them?” Phil asked sincerely.

“I’d probably die in their arms, let’s be real for a second here.” Dan responded, with the sole purpose of making his friend jealous. And it worked. Kind of. Phil was not sure if it was possible to be jealous of himself.

“You’re so dramatic, what if they’re awfully ugly in person?”

“Look, how ugly can they be when their soul is the most beautiful thing in the world?” Dan said with the softest smile ever, the same one that melted Phil onto the ground.

Oh no, Dan _didn’t_. How dared he say that?

“I’m just saying. Not everyone lives up to your expectations, Dan.”

“Honestly, I don’t care.”

Good. His idea was probably gonna work if Dan kept thinking like that. The only thing he had to lose was their friendship, and honestly that was a lot.

“And what if they’re a serial killer in real life? Would you still support their works?”

“Plausibly.” He said shrugging.

“You’re a lost cause, mate.” Phil responded shaking his head and laughing. He felt warm inside with all the secret hope Dan had given to him during that conversation.

“I know. Wanna watch something?” Dan was now full leaning onto his side, head on his shoulder.

“Sure, anything that allows me to stay longer on the sofa…”

Dan grabbed the remote control and put on Netflix. It was the usual for when they were feeling lazy. They didn't feel like watching action which was the go to choice most of the time, so they picked a comedy. The Good Place sounded good for the mood, no pun intended. It was late, and even if the series was interesting and funny, the tiredness won the battle.

***

Next morning Phil woke up pretty early, thanks to his neck killing him. It took him a couple of seconds to realise the positions their bodies were in. Dan’s head was against his shoulder, his right arm across his lap holding onto his thigh. He couldn't help but sigh in frustration. Waking up like that was something he wanted for the rest of his life. Some minutes passed while he stared at his best friend sleeping. Was that creepy? He didn't wait for his mind to respond and immediately looked away. Sighing again he slowly took Dan’s arm and placed it on the sofa between them. Then he lifted his head with the palm of his hand, and without taking it away, he gently pushed him by the shoulder with his other hand to make him lay across the sofa. He stood up and pulled up Dan’s hanging legs. A small chuckle left his lips, his best friend really had a deep sleep. Now the one thing that was missing from the cute view of Dan sleeping was a blanket. So he went into Dan's room, brought his blanket and placed it atop of him.

Breakfast could wait, and honestly, he wanted to wait so he could have breakfast with Dan. While he waited though, he could start with his plan. He brought his laptop to the table and sat there to write, or well, more like edit and publish. His plan consisted on publishing a work deliberately directed towards Dan, in a way of confessing his feelings and who he actually was. But he wasn't mentioning either of their names so Dan would have to be very sharp-eyed. 

He already had written something on a google doc, but initially it wasn’t meant to be published. They were letters. For Dan. Probably too forward, but it was the only way he’s had to vent his feelings and emotions when they became too much for him to handle. He'd been writing those for a while. Adding a summary felt right though, and maybe it would even catch Dan’s eye faster. He has to change the opening of every letter, and his creativity doesn’t help at all. How is he gonna delete ‘Dear Dan’? He likes it a lot and it would sound wrong without his name on it. Besides, what else could he put in there instead? The word dear was Phil’s favorite, because it was how he thought of Dan: _dearingly_. Unexpectedly, the song he was currently listening, gave him an idea, in which he didn’t have to keep Dan’s name, and neither he had to replace dear. God _bless_ Angelica Schuyler. And God _BLESS_ Lin-Manuel Miranda. Phil then changes his name in the signature to his pseudonym, totally ruining the vibe. Of course, normal people always wrote love letters and signed with names like ‘Sylvesthor’. Phil laughed at himself while pressing the publish button. He took a look at Dan and smiled, and then he decided to take a shower. It was done, and he needed to follow Eliza’s and Angelica’s advice and take a break. But he forgot to close his email. And that was a big mistake. 

***

Dan woke up with the loud beep and vibration of his phone. He was not expecting a notification to wake him up that morning, but time couldn’t turn back and he was already awake. His hand instinctively reached for his pocket, but he felt something in the way. A blanket. A soft warm blanket. He couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of Phil covering him with it. He slid his hand took his phone out of his pocket to see what was the reason he was alive so early that day, and his eyes opened widely at the sight: _‘Sylvesthor has updated a new story’_. This writer was really giving it all, and he wasn’t complaining, but it was too early to be reading.

As he tried to sleep again, he remembered he had fallen asleep on the couch, and with his jeans on. He was not gonna be able to sleep again with that knowledge. Some minutes passed and while he was still lying on the couch, Phil’s laptop also started emitting loud beeps, which Dan recognized as emails. But they didn’t seem to stop anytime soon, so he groaned, tossed the warm blanket aside and got off the couch to walk towards the table. His only intention was to turn the sound off but then the logo on the emails caught his eye. _Oh. Storyteller. So Phil did have an account but didn’t tell him? Why the fuck? Does he read Marvel smut or..? Oh._

His eyes focused now on what the emails were about. Those were all bookmarks, and occasional comments. Phil had written something? His conscience screamed _“BACK THE FUCK OFF. RESPECT YOUR FRIEND’S PRIVACY”_ but the curiosity was stronger than his will. He knew he was gonna gonna regret his decision, but if they really think about it, it was mostly Phil’s fault for not telling him about his account, so he grabbed the mouse and scrolled down to open an already read one, to be safe.

“Oh my goodness…” he whispered when he saw what the name of his account: Sylvesthor. His friend was his favorite writer. That couldn’t be true, Phil was not very articulate when they talked, their conversations were a mess, he couldn’t be that writer. But then again the evidence was right in front of his eyes. Dan didn’t actually know why Phil was anything but articulate, and it was because of him. He made him nervous, since the beginning, and that’s why Dan wouldn't expect more from him. Now the master degree Phil had on linguistics made more sense. He realized he had notifications from the app too, so he grabbed his own phone and opened it.

His eyes found now Phil’s username, and he saw the last work published. The description of the boy in the summary was really really familiar, so much that it sounded like… himself? He kept reading the short paragraph? Verse? Poem? The more he read, the more he found similarities to himself. The correct word was not similarities though, it was exactly the same person, even if there were no names. He just felt it.

The story already had thousands of reads, and he smiled for that, proud of his friend. But he had to confront him. He didn’t like being exposed on media like that. What if he had written about really personal stuff? It’s anonymous anyways. Still uncomfortable for him. Though, his favorite writer, writing about him? Phil writing about him? A fucking dream. _Concentrate, Howell, you got a problem here, throw your stupid crush aside._

Dan couldn’t even keep reading, he was afraid of what he would find in there. But how’s he supposed to bring up the subject with Phil? He’s barely able to talk to the man because he gets weak whenever he sees him. It happened again. Phil’s footsteps were heard coming closer, and Dan almost fell trying to stand up to return soon to the sofa. He didn't put down his phone, though, so his best friend found him looking at the small screen.

“Morning, breakfast?” Phil’s hair was still wet but thrown back on his now usual quiff.

Dan looked up with a sentence ready to snap from his lips until his breath was literally taken away from Phil’s looks. He was only able to nod in response.

Together they walked to the kitchen, in awkward silence. The tension was also weird between them, Phil distracted Dan from his thoughts again.

“Is everything alright, Dan?”

Before giving his answer he turned to grab two mugs, leave them on the counter, then grab the coffee, the cereals and the cereal bowls. He couldn’t wait more time. He turned around and looked at his friend directly in the eyes.

“Actually, no, it’s not.” He snapped.

“Are you mad at me?” Phil asked worryingly. The times he and Dan had bad fights with each other could be counted with the fingers of one hand, but they had always figured out the best ways of solving them, even if that meant they’d been mad at each other for months. That was the last thing they needed when their second tour started.

“No shit, Sherlock. You lied about having a Storyteller account and then I find out which one is yours because you happen to be using me as a plot device. Don’t you think I’d be embarrassed? I’ve been talking to _you_ about _yourself_ for months and you didn’t say a thing. Was that funny to you?” Dan talked very fast, but Phil was used to it.

“No! It’s not like that!” Phil hurried to say. That was not how he wanted Dan to find out. And he certainly didn’t expect it _so soon._

“Let’s see, you’re writing about me without my consent. Is that what it is?” Dan had crossed his arms on his chest, closing himself emotionally. Phil had learned over the years that it was a sign for when Dan was mad but insecure about the thing he was mad about, and the crossed arms were his barrier from the world.

“No,” Phil pauses, “it’s not _about_ you. It’s _for you. It was not my intention to use you. I guess you didn’t read everything. Otherwise you’d know you inspire me.”_

__

“What?” His question came out more like a whisper.

“What you just heard. I’m not saying it again.” Phil turned around after being aware of his heavily blushed face.

“No Phil, I need an explanation.” Dan reached for Phil’s shoulder. “How the fuck do I inspire you? My life is miserable and the only thing that keeps me going is our friendship” Dan shared more than he intended to, but what he said wasn’t a lie. He was not gonna retract himself.

“Please just finish reading what I wrote, okay?”

Dan shook his head.

“I want to hear it from you. I can’t read stuff about me, I feel second hand embarrassment for myself.”

“Such a pity…” Phil muttered sarcastically.

“Geez. Fine. I will. That doesn’t mean I forgive you, I still don’t want my life being overexposed to the public.”

Phil knew Dan was being dramatic, and it was clear that he hadn’t read at least one chapter, because what he had wrote was never a description or exposeness of Dan’s life. And he knew that Dan didn’t sound as mad as he was at the beginning of the conversation, he sounded more like he was joking. Phil iignored everything Dan said and responded.

“Now, tell me when you finish the first chapter.” Phil sat and leaned back on the chair, like waiting for Dan to sit down too to read right there. Dan stared at Phil a couple of seconds before sitting down. He pulled out his phone and opened the app. The story was still there.

_“«Summary_

__

There’s this man I know  
For a long time we’ve shared a home  
He goes through life almost naive to his surroundings  
And sometimes he’s weak when his heart is pounding  
I’m gonna tell him how he’s seen from almost everyone’s eyes  
Maybe he can see under this disguise  
He used to hide hobbit hair  
With way too much care  
I hope he understands, I’m sure he will  
Because now his attention is only drawn by paper and quill. 

«Chapter 1:

“My dearest,  
You’re probably not the one who’s reading this, but anyways, I have something to say. Actually, many things to say.  
Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I hadn’t found you or if you hadn’t found me. I came to the conclusion that I would be bored and alone. Who would’ve thought I’d find inspiration right when I had decided to quit writing? You inspired me, and keep doing it, and you feel ethereal, like a muse to me. I know you have a weakness for the written word, but you never realized I write for you.  
Your best friend,  
Sylvesthor.”»

«Chapter 2:

“My dearest,  
I think I’ve started feeling different these days. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in a bad place mentally, at least not fully. How does someone express things with words? I don’t even know how I write. I guess I’ll say it by not saying it. Instead I’ll tell you other things. Like the things I like about you, everyone likes these about you, I’m sure. Your laugh, that contagious laugh that could cheer up the saddest day on earth. Your hair, especially when you haven’t straightened it, it’s just so beautiful and soft and hobbit-like that makes me want to kiss you and then move together to The Shire. Is that weird? I have more things to mention, but if I do, this letter will never end. The most important thing that cannot be not mentioned is your personality. Shit, you have no idea how much I like that one. I’ve done since years ago and just now I’m realizing it. How stupid can someone be to ignore those feelings? Well, as stupid as me I suppose. Anyways,  
Yours truly,  
Sylvesthor.”»

«Chapter 3:

“My dearest,  
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Or through anyone’s actually. Seeing you not noticing how awesome you are is devastating. I try my hardest to make you feel better when you’re having the worst of days. I also wish I could hold you in my arms for hours until you smile again. I sound like a creep. Gee. I’ll be happy whenever you are, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing. I’ll stop writing now before I start crying and I’ll make you a tea.  
Yours forever,  
Sylvesthor.”»

«Chapter 4:

“My dearest,  
Do you know what’s the worst thing in all of this situation? It’s that I think like I’m not gonna be able to tell you how I feel face to face. Or that if I do, you’re gonna stop talking to me, and the single thought just breaks my heart because that’s the cruelest thing that could happen to me. It’s inconceivable to me a life where we’d stop talking. It would be chaos and I would be sadder than normal, being unable to at least say hello.  
Wishing I could kiss you goodnight,  
Sylvesthor.”»

«Chapter 5:

“My dearest,  
Many songs remind me of you, I don’t know why. It just does. When I’m supposed to be working my mind leaves my body, divagates and one way or another I end up thinking about you. I check my phone more than necessary to see if you’ve texted me, only to text back immediately. Sometimes the screen appears empty and I feel like I’m the only one who cares. Writing this, now, I’m about to cry, because I’ve fallen into my pessimistic side and because I’m a coward. Yes, I am.  
Yours,  
Sylvesthor.”»

«Chapter 6:

_“My dearest,_  
There’s a saying somewhere that says “between jokes, a truth hides” You joke too much about the ‘no homo’ thing. Is that a joke? Is it actually homo? Sounds stupid, and you’re treating me like I am. I’m not stupid. –Yes, that was a Hamilton reference and I don’t care.– I can’t think of a response that doesn’t reveal my truth. I’m worried that this stays in a purely platonic state, but you know what? I’ve done my research, like Anderson should have. The original platonic relationship proposed by Plato himself. He said that love went way far from physical, and it was based on the intellect and the emotions. And he also said that it was more common between men, because in his time, women were considered objects. He was right in only the first part, of course. Isn’t that what we have? The connection? Or maybe I’m overthinking everything, like I always do. Please tell me I’m not. Please tell me I’m right.  
With love,  
Sylvesthor.»”

Phil had said “read the first chapter”, but Dan couldn’t stop after one. As he had mentioned before, Phil’s words are his weakness, and he got trapped inside them. He read everything. The six small, hobbit-sized chapters that were letters instead of actual chapters, also were written towards him, for him, as Phil said. Dan nodded instead of talking because it seemed like the best way of communication in the moment. He was speechless.

“So…” Dan tried to at least say something.

“So?” Phil asked.

“I hate the placement of the commas after dearest.” Dan said, standing up and taking a step closer to his best friend. Phil stood up too.

“Lin is a bad influence for my writing.” He muttered while looking away.

“I’m sure not.” Dan walked until he was facing his best friend, and continued, “If he were, I wouldn’t be looking into your eyes thinking the sky’s the limit.” He was leaning on the edge of the table now, and he was grateful for that because he would’ve fallen down. Phil took his hand and started playing with fingers.

“Well, then I have to say that I’m so into you, I am so into you.” Dan gazed between Phil’s fingers being intertwined with his, his eyes and his lips. Focus not found.

“And when I was on the train station, I knew you were about to change my life.”

“And my life is fine because you’re in it.” Phil added.

Dan sighed and closed his eyes. Phil leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.

“I want to say this boy is mine.” He whispered with his eyes still closed. The closeness with his best friend felt amazing, but it also terrifying. 

“You do?” Phil responded with a smirk.

He opened his eyes again and without blinking for a millisecond he said:

“I do,” He gently kissed the tip of his nose. “I do,” He gave him a forehead kiss. “I do,” And finally kissed his lips. “I do.”

“Dan, you got me helpless.” Phil kissed him again, thinking about how their life had suddenly changed, for good.

And so, what began with a stupid and sappy battle of Hamilton references became a dream come true.

***

“Phil?” Dan muttered from under the covers.

“Yeah?” Phil looked down at the boy in his arms. He thought he was already asleep.

“Are we gonna tell the viewers?” He asked.

“Nobody needs to know…” Phil couldn’t help but say that. Perfectly fitted for the occasion.

“Shut up!” Dan softly poked his side. “I’m gonna tell my mom anyways.”


End file.
